


castles in the sky

by mireailles



Series: castles in the sky [1]
Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mireailles/pseuds/mireailles
Summary: Contains spoilers for up to volume 7 of the manga. Thorfinn stays by Canute's side as his loyal thegn.
Relationships: Canute/Thorfinn (Vinland Saga)
Series: castles in the sky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992760
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	castles in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into this fandom, eep.

He doesn't move.

Maybe there's another version of himself that does, that tries to attack Canute but his legs give in as Askeladd bleeds out in front of him. Someone drags him away from the chaos, and he's tied up somewhere, a sack over his head. He hears voice sometimes, sounds of rural life, that he assumes is happening outside of wherever he is.

Someone comes to get him. They drag him onto a wagon and from there he's moved to another hideout he assumes. They sit him up on a chair, keep his arms and legs tied up. Then, they take off the sack and he sees Canute at the end of a long table. There are fresh fruit and a large pig in the middle of the table, Canute doesn't touch any of it. The crown on his head looks like a farce. Thorfinn doesn't say anything and neither does Canute.

Canute takes up a plate and puts some fruit and piece of the pig on it. Starts to eat like he doesn't have someone tied up on the other side of the room, watching him, digging his nails in the chair and leaving marks on it. 

This charade goes on for two days before Canute finally speaks. 

"If you promise not to do anything, I will untie you," he says.

"I promise," Thorfinn says.

Only his left hand is cut free before he breaks his promise. He manages to pull the rope off his right hand and jumps up on the table, trying (in vain) to reach for Canute. His men surround Thorfinn, slamming him on the table and he's taken away from Canute. This sets Thorfinn back another week, where he's simply left alone, tied up in some shack somewhere, burlap sack on his head. Then, he's taken back to the same table, Canute on the other end.

"If you promise not to do anything this time, I will untie you," Canute says. "Think carefully."

"Fine."

His ropes are cut and he rubs at his wrists, starts to feel something other than the incessant tingling. Canute nods, like he's satisfied. Thorfinn helps himself to a glass of wine and some cheese, not interested in indulging Canute whatsoever. He's tied up at the end of the meal and dragged off to a shed somewhere.

"What do you want, Canute?" Thorfinn asks when he's dragged back the next day.

"I want you to stay under my employ, be my loyal body guard, I'll give you whatever you want."

He doesn't know why he chooses to stay, Canute apparently would've promised him complete freedom to leave if he'd declined or so the rumours go. Instead, he's tied up to one of Canute's bedposts.

"I can't really do anything if you're just gonna keep me tied up."

"It's just for a little while," Canute says. "Just be patient, I haven't broken you in yet."

It's another three weeks before Canute reunites Thorfinn with his father's blades. He kisses them, missing the feel of them, both in his hands and in their sheaths on his hips. He slides his fingers over them and relishes the feeling as he slips them back in. 

Canute crosses his arms. "Now that I've given you what you need, I want you to train me."  
  
"Train you?"  
  
"Yes, train me to fight. I've seen what you're capable of, you're more than qualified as my bodyguard."  
  
Thorfinn shakes his head. "Not interested, besides how do you expect to fight with." He pauses and nods towards Canute's head. "All that hair."  
  
Canute doesn't respond, he walks up to Thorfinn, grabs one of the blades in his hand. He takes his long hair, tied up in it's trademark ponytail and runs the knife through it. He places the knife back in Thorfinn's empty right hand. The tuft of long hair in his other hand, hanging limp like a horse's tail.   
  
"No," Thorfinn says, firmly.  
  
"Very well then."  
  
By now, Thorfinn should've realized that wouldn't be the end. That Canute had many other methods of getting what he wanted. He sics people on Thorfinn. It's not a hard task, as most of Canute's men are envious of Thorfinn's position and treatment. How could such a short youth, one that's made an attempt at Canute's life, command his attention as he does.   
  
But even that, Canute is smart about. He picks those who are short-tempered already, those whose emotions are easily swayed, like the sails when the winds finally have mercy and blow in the direction needed. He watches Thorfinn in amusement after a meeting and someone's taken to heart Thorfinn's good fortune. A fight ensues on the streets and he manages to catch a glimpse of Canute in the distance or in a cloak, with the hood pulled over.  
  
"Fine," Thorfinn relents. "You win."  
  
"How unfortunate," Canute says. "I was just about to pick off some more people but if you feel it necessary."

Every yard with enough space becomes their battleground. And like everything Canute does, he attacks with an aggression that Thorfinn mostly has to endure. He uses every dirty trick in the book, even ones Thorfinn has never even heard of, taunts, angry words at how he killed Askeladd instead of him. Thorfinn's not built of the same stuff Canute is, the first time Canute taunts him, he loses control of himself. Canute is hungry for a win, for respect of his fellow men and he takes it all out on Thorfinn.

The years pass by, Canute's hair gets shorter each year, along with his temper. Thorfinn's grows longer, so does his patience. He mostly sits at Canute's side, along with Wulf. He looks on silently as those that admonished him, green with envy, their scorn slowly turning to admiration and in some, reverence. He watches them, feeling hollow. Something inside him snaps or drains. It leaves him sluggish, once in an attempt on Canute's life, the attacker leaves a thin scar trailing on his cheek. 

In Canute's bedchambers, Canute grinds up something in a mortar. With his back turned, he looks like a completely different person. Thorfinn sags on his bed.

"Here," Canute says, taking up some of the paste on his fingers and rubbing it on Thorfinn's cheek.

Thorfinn hisses.

"It'll sting a bit," Canute says casually. 

"Where did you learn this?"

Canute shrugs. "Ragnar." He puts the concoction on the table off to the side. "You've been getting sluggish lately."

"I haven't," Thorfinn denies.

"You have, I asked Wulf and he agrees." Canute looks away. "Would you like more time to yourself? I could leave you in bed, Wulf can handle it on his own."

"No," Thorfinn says, getting up.

"Thorfinn, hold," Canute says. "If you will not rest, then you shall sleep by my side, at least until I can discern you are well enough to be on your own."  
  
It's an uncomfortable proposition but if there's one thing about Thorfinn, Canute should've already known is that he's simply never one to truly back down.

So, Thorfinn's side of the bed sags under his weight. Canute seems unphased by the whole thing, keeping to his side mostly, back turned like he's used to doing this all the time. Maybe he has, Thorfinn surmises, because before him and Askeladd, there was Ragnar who was always by his side, even as a small boy. This, he confesses to Wulf and Thorfinn and only on separate occasions.

"You were screaming in your sleep," Canute tells him the first night.

Thorfinn rubs his eyes like he's trying to rub away the lack of sleep he feels on them. "Hmm?"

"I said, you were screaming in your sleep."

  
“What were you dreaming about?” Canute asks at breakfast.

Thorfinn shrugs. “I can’t really remember anything.”

Canute’s reach is far.

Thorfinn has learned not to question his conquest, and so has Wulf, those who aren’t smart either get cut off from their share of spoils or have their heads mounted on pikes. Thorfinn’s done it so many times he’s lost count and Wulf more than picks up for the slack. Half the time, they’re out on the fields, whether it be battle or farmland. Canute walks with an air of authority--Askeladd would be proud or bitter, Thorfinn thinks it might be a mixture of both with bitter winning out in the end.

One morning, Thorfinn manages to wake up early enough that he catches Canute mumbling to himself. He’s staring at a corner in the room, crown not on his head, but in one hand, balanced between his fingers.

“Leave me be,” he says.

“Who are you talking to?”

Canute looks at Thorfinn surprised. 

They don’t speak of what transpires between them that morning or the ones after. Canute doesn’t ask why Thorfinn screams in his sleep and Thorfinn doesn’t ask why Canute throws such harsh words to the walls when he thinks Thorfinn’s asleep. It’s an uneasy stalemate that Wulf tries to break but Canute, uncharacteristically, snaps at him for prying and the matter is dropped. Eventually, too tired and wary, Canute dismisses Thorfinn to his own quarters. And Thorfinn is relieved, dropping himself on the mattress, inhaling sweat soaked in the sheets. He’s still sleep deprived and sluggish but Canute allows it.

The battle to take Ketil’s farm doesn’t really interest Thorfinn, neither does anything else these days. But he carries out Canute’s orders as his thegn. They make it all the way to the farm and stop when they get to a small hut with a grouchy old man, a woman in bandages and a man at her side, holding her hand. She doesn’t make it and at dawn, they bury her.

Through negotiations, the farm is ceded to a man named Snake and the elder man. Einar pledges allegiance to Canute though he is not convinced of Canute’s prowess. It is, he admits, the better option between being a slave to a brute. So they take him with them and leave the farm alone. Canute disappears with Wulf, talking about some political move Thorfinn isn’t really interested in hearing. 

Einar slouches on the ship, looking devastated. He doesn’t know what makes him sit next to Einar but Einar doesn’t say anything. He runs his hands through his hair--his dirty, bloody hands that he hasn’t washed off since that woman’s death.

“Arnheid,” he says, softly.

“What?”

“Her name,” he rasps out. “It was Arnheid and she only saw pain in her life.”

“Hm,” Thorfinn says.

“You wouldn’t understand, all you do is fight and grow fat off of other people’s work. You’ve never grown anything in your life.”

“Maybe,” Thorfinn says. “I’ve taken my share of lives, land but once I had a dream about a place of peace, paradise. I no longer dream of that anymore.”

“Why not?” Einar asks, gaze fixed on Thorfinn.

“It’s just not how life is. It’s not how my life will end.”

“Maybe, but yours isn’t over yet. It’s too late for Arnheid, true but it’s not too late for you.”

Wulf steps out of Canute’s cabin and pulls Thorfinn away before he can say anything but he can still feel Einar’s gaze on his back. Canute’s staring at a map, looking for more to pillage for the sake of his paradise. To put pressure on more territories for resources to maintain control over England. He looks strained, like it’s not really something he wants to do. Ketil’s farm was brutal, even though Thorfinn’s seen so much on his travels. So many farmers and countrymen slain, the look of Olmar--Ketil’s son as he fled.

When they reach back to the capital, Canute locks himself in his room, spreading out maps and making calculations for his next move. 

Einar looks around, feeling lost when Wulf pulls him aside. Thorfinn manages to catch up to them before Wulf can lay a claim on him, “Let me handle him.”

Wulf looks from Einar to Thorfinn, looking unconvinced but lets go of Einar’s arm just the same. 

“Mind answerin’ what you’re doin’?” Einar asks.

Thorfinn lets go of Einar’s arm, letting his own drop to the side. “I’m not sure myself. Would you like to share my quarters?”

Einar shrugs. “I don’t mind, I guess. I ain’t got anywhere else to go.”

By Canute’s orders, Einar is simply assigned as a cook. His freedom bought by Canute himself, though Einar was promised freedom if he’d sold enough crops, he’d barely made a dent in the wilderness. He works in the kitchens, scrubbing plates and dishes, cooking food when they aren’t enough people on hand. He bunks with Thorfinn at night, Canute relinquishes an extra bed for his quarters.

At night, that’s when Einar breathes in heavily, points up at the ceiling like there’s actual stars on them and tells Thorfinn stories about his homeland. 

“Do you think you’d go back?” Thorfinn says in a rush, as if he’s seen the long rows of wheat of Einar’s homeland.

Einar shakes his head, turns so that his back’s towards Thorfinn. “Ain’t nothing left of it, I suppose. Everybody’s probably dead.”

“What if there’s a place for you?”

“What d’you mean?”

“A place where you could live peacefully, without violence.”

“I’d say you’re barking mad but I’d love to live in such a place.”

“Vinland,” he says, voice so low it’s barely audible.

“Vinland?”

“Yes, Vinland.” Thorfinn raises his hand and it’s almost like he’s tracing some invisible route on the ceiling. “Where we’ll re-build once again.”

“I hear you’re planning on leaving us soon,” Canute says, though his eyes are downcast on another piece of parchment.

“I am going to build a place of peace.”

“And what do you think I’m doing right now?” Canute says, looking up. “What do you think all this bloodshed is for? My entertainment?”

Wulf flinches, though his back remains as straight as ever, Thorfinn has learned how to read Wulf. The slight movements of his face, how his lips press slightly together, and he shifts ever so slightly on his two feet. He only has one eye now, because of Thorgil, Ketil’s eldest son, gone rogue. 

“I accuse you of nothing.”

“Then what is it you want?” Canute asks. “What can I give you to make you change your mind?”

Thorfinn breathes in. “I simply want my freedom, Canute. Mine’s and Einar’s. I’d like a boat and a small sum of money. If you cannot give me that, then simply allow me and Einar to leave.”

“Alright.” Canute hangs his head, his first defeat. “Alright, some silver, a small boat and Einar. Nothing else.”

“I am grateful, Canute,” Thorfinn says, bowing down low.

“Thorfinn,” Canute says at Thorfinn’s retreating form. “Always remember, you have a place in my heart.”

“And you, mine,” Thorfinn chokes out, clenching his fists.

  
Thorfinn blinks, feeling dazed. His mouth’s dry as he runs his tongue over his teeth, sitting up. He rubs his eyes, feeling the scratch of the grass bedding pricking at his back. Einar bends down, shoving something in front of Thorfinn’s face. Thorfinn almost backs up but he spots the water pouch. He takes it up from Einar, swallowing it down like he’s completely parched.

Einar takes a seat next to him. “You know this is the first time I’ve seen you sleep so peacefully, was it a good dream?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Thorfinn says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.


End file.
